


slow down, icarus; the sun is waiting for you.

by brkmnblck



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Kinda, Mention of Character Death, Pre-Canon, Somewhat canon divergent, if i ever finish this that is, mostly - Freeform, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brkmnblck/pseuds/brkmnblck
Summary: or rather, four times will graham was fast enough, and the one time he wasn't.(a series of one shots exploring will graham, not ship related in any shape or form)
Relationships: None, it's all about will graham babey, miss me with that hannigram nonsense or however the fuck u spell it
Kudos: 7





	slow down, icarus; the sun is waiting for you.

Will Graham is fourteen the first time he saves someone’s life.

He’s down at the docks when it happens; he and his father are in a new place once again and although Will is more interested in exploring the woods that envelope the town in like a prickly hug it’s been a while since he’s had time alone with the waves and his thoughts. Usually he’d be at the shipyard, helping his father out on one of the boat engines but they’re not particularly scrapped for help this time and thus, Will is left to his own devices once again. So he goes, glasses teetering on the bridge of his nose (slightly misshapen from when he rolled out of bed one night and smacked them off his bedside table) and baggy clothes barely held to his frame by a shoestring.

There’s a psychology book tucked under his arm that he borrowed from a library a few towns back and forgot to return, although it quickly became a staple in his weekly routine as he read the pages over and over, committing the scientific terms and long paragraphs to memory. Sitting on an old, weathered bench at the beginning of the docks Will opens the book to the spot where a corner is delicately folded in, taking gentle care to unfurl the edge and smooth the wrinkle out with his thumb. It was really one of the only books he’d managed to hold onto between moves, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it. 

The docks however, are much louder than he expected them to be. He’s used to the quiet shipyards where most of the noise comes from the sound of tools working on the engines and playful jests and small talk between the workers there (not that he participates in any of it, too busy watching his father at work) but there are plenty of kids and teenagers here, sitting on the edge of the dock or playing in the water at the shores. Every splash, every _screech_ seems to demand Will’s attention, causing him to lose his place each time with an exasperated huff of air. 

Disgruntled after a few minutes of starting over on the same page Will sighed, pressing the corner back into place and closing the book before he set it on the bench next to him. Thin fingers press his frames back up his nose as he turns his attention fully to the docks, gaze sweeping over the various patrons scattered about. It seems relatively normal at first, if a bit awkward to be watching them all from a distance, until Will’s eyes land on two teenagers around his age. Idly he remembers them from his first day of classes the week prior, somewhat sure that he shared a few classes with the boy but couldn’t place his name or face (more due to Will’s quiet nature than anything else).

At this beach there were two wooden docks, looking each to be about fifteen feet wide and around twenty feet long. A few boards were missing here and there, but all in all they seemed stable enough that Will wasn’t terribly worried at first when he saw the duo. Maybe envied them more than anything. They’re laughing and taking turns jumping in before climbing back up and starting over again. Closing his eyes, Will can imagine the increased breeze on his face from being all the way out on the end, even feels it ruffle his wild mess of curls as he puffs his chest up in the name of acting tough or cool. 

The sweet giggles ring in his ears as he opens his eyes just in time to see one of the girls get pushed by one of the boys, before he picks her up in a bridal sort of carry and once again Will can feel the weight in his arms as if he’s out there with them, feet travelling carefully so as not to catch on the splintered wood.

_Just a bit of fun, right? There’s no harm in throwing her out into the water._

His eyes are locked to the couple now, hands gripping his knees as he watches the boy lose his balance before they both go tumbling into the water, Will’s shoulders folding in tight as a sickening _crunch_ barely reaches his ears. As if his body were moving on autopilot Will soon finds that he’s now standing, eyes searching the water as he takes one, two steps forward when the girl resurfaces but the boy doesn’t, splashing wildly as though she already knew something was terribly wrong. Almost immediately, Will’s nose and throat begin to burn as if he’d just chugged salt water.

“Help! Somebody please, I think my boyfriend hit his head on the way in!” Her voice has reached a wail, grabbing the attention of a group of kids and what appeared to be their babysitter on the other dock, eyes darting between the girl in the water and her own charges. Will takes another step forward before he’s reaching up for his glasses and placing them on the bench, breaking into a running start now as he sheds his shoes and his socks at the beginning of the dock. 

The wind is really pushing his hair around now, almost threatening to blow him over as he reaches the end and dives in without thinking a small ways away from the girl. It’s deeper than he expected and it takes a second for Will to get his bearing as he forces his eyes open, the murky water blurring around him as he decides to just reach down and kick as hard as he can to get deeper into the water. The sudden quietness of the water almost gives him pause, his own heart hammering into his chest before his fingertips finally graze skin— it’s similar to an electric shock, hand jerking away before he gives one last kick to wrap his arm around the boy’s torso and push up towards the air. 

_I will not let you drown today, I promise you that._

It seems like an eternity when he finally breaks the surface again, gasping for air as if he’d never truly appreciated it until then. Perhaps in a way, he hadn’t. He’s a bit perturbed at how eerily silent the docks are now, ambulances crying in the near distance while a small crowd gathered on the shore as if they were terrified to bring the docks down by standing on them. Limbs exhausted from this effort Will gathered the last bit of his strength to help lift the boy up to his girlfriend and a small group of boys who must have run down after he dove in. 

Eyes turned down now to the shores, it takes a second for Will to realize that they’re holding their hands out for him too but he can’t bring himself to reach up, instead jerking his head back and forth as he works to keep himself afloat in the water. He waits in silence as someone seems to perform CPR on the teen (if the sounds were anything to go by), body tense as he silently begs for something, _anything_. Another minute, and then a wet cough before intense hacking followed, cheers erupting from the crowd on the beach as Will exhales in relief, paddling past the group back to the shore, feeling a bit like a drowned dog or raccoon as his now drenched clothes hang off of his body like an ill fitting costume, reaching down briefly for his shoes. 

The new house is thankfully close enough that he can walk home barefoot (his feet were tough enough that he didn’t mind the hot blacktop), pushing through the crowd and past the few people who had enough sense to try and stop him, try to thank him for his ‘heroics’ that day. He shrugs the words off, flustered at the heavy handshakes and slaps on the back that make his cheeks burn like a fresh sunburn on a summer’s day as he makes his way back to the small, unassuming bench that he’d started the day at. 

Although well-meaning, their words are the last thing he wants; it was simply the right thing to do at the time. He didn’t do it for the praise or love of the public.

And besides, the smile on the boy’s face ( _Joey_ , as he comes to learn that week) when he sees Will in class next week is more than enough to make it all worth it anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> idk if i'll continue this, i just had the idea and i had to get it out of my head because while i love will graham n his sarcastic band of fbi agents n scientists i cannot bring myself to participate in this fandom otherwise lol


End file.
